


Fire

by PaigeMin



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Accident, F/M, Fire, Kabby, Kabby AU, Kabby hospital AU, Kabby love, M/M, mackson - Freeform, pyromaniac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 13,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14591784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeMin/pseuds/PaigeMin
Summary: A story where fire devours everything, where Abby Griffin, must relearn to walk and fall in love with a pyromaniac who has to face his demons.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Here is a new Kabby Fanfiction that I wrote long ago. Tell me what you think the next chapter is coming soon ;)

_ "Sometimes it happens that the arsonist is **an obsessed** , succumbing to his desire to attend a fire (...), thanks to a weakness of his voluntary control, or **a mentally retarded ** looking for the pleasure of unleashing a fire."  
_

_ -That is how one qualifies a pyromaniac. I find it horrible.  
_

_  
~~~~~ _

 

The rain had been falling for days. Not that he saw her. He knew it because he had heard it against the window. That of his hospital room. That of the car that had driven him here.

  
Days he could not see anything anymore. That he lived in the dark, and all that because of a split second. He had spent a few weeks in the hospital passing tests, and the operation had obviously lengthened his convalescence ... He held limply the precious piece of paper that he should present. He wanted to set it on fire.

  
And he was there, at the door-he presumed-of a rehabilitation center. Supported by several nursing assistants, he was guided to a counter where he deposited his papers in front of a secretary.

Marcus Kane, 17/04/ 1972 ... Patient: 44-9645-300

She read the whole thing and showed them the direction to take them to Marcus's room. His belongings were placed somewhere on the floor and he was seated on his bed. With other patients, the nurses left him alone, assuring him that someone would come to look after him soon. He tried to inhale deeply, but his breathing was shaking.

The doctor said he wanted to keep him under surveillance, to "see his progress" and to ensure the healing of the huge burns on his arms and shoulders. On his face.

  
But Marcus knew perfectly well why he was there.

  
For preparing. To accept.

  
His name was Marcus Kane, he had never asked anyone, he was 46 years old and would probably remain blind for the rest of his life.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the 2nd chapter ;)  
> So I intend to post a chapter per day!
> 
> (PS: excuse me if there are faults I'm bad in English

_"On his hospital bed, the arsonist goes off slowly."_   
_-Gaetan Faucer_

 

~~~~~

The night was horrible, like almost every other since the accident. Marcus woke up to what seemed to him every half-hour, soaked in sweat, his body trembling and painful and his mouth open with a silent scream.

 

The flames that devoured his flesh, the smell of burning.

 

Always the same nightmare.

 

~~~~~~

 

The room had two beds at the ends of the room. The other bed, unoccupied for the moment, sat enthroned against the window. Near the door was a small washbasin with a completely useless mirror for Marcus and a small doorless wardrobe for the few belongings that the man had brought with him.

 

The staff was attentive. They were all very busy, but still showed patience. One of them particularly pleased Marcus, although it does not show anything. The nurse was younger than him, his voice was soft and he had a sometimes dubious humor. He spoke a lot to Marcus, who was content to listen to him in silence, without ever answering. There was no doubt that the entire establishment knew who Nathan Miller was. Everybody. Without exception. Nathan was one of those people who illuminate the lives of everyone.

 

Marcus was soon to discover that the days at the center were all that was dull and monotonous. And difficult. Learning to walk, wash and eat alone was not a pleasure. But it was less bad than the hospital.

 

Most of the patients were old. Marcus, because of his age, had no chance to make friends with anyone. The conversations about the temperature and the chess game last week, no thanks. Even if he was very good at chess.

 

In any case, he did not have the opportunity to do anything. Play something, read or watch TV, he could not do anything. Even listening to music was not available to him.

 

Nobody came to see him. Nobody had the time, or rather the courage to see him in such a state. He had no idea, he knew he was sorry in the eyes of his friends. And his relationship with his family had not improved much since then.

 

So when his room welcomed a new occupant, his boring routine was upset.


	3. III

_"Who blows in the fire, the sparks jump to his eyes."_  
_-Goethe_

 

 ~~~~~

 

Abby Griffin was naturally optimistic.

 

But this incident had severely disrupted her mental state. She did not go crazy or upset, just ... She was not even there, Abby, and everyone knew it.

 

Usually she always managed to overcome all the problems that arose against her. Only her close friends knew that she had never had an easy life, and that's why they did their best to support and encourage her whenever opportunities arose. But they had all felt that this time was going to be the last, and they were not quite wrong.

 

Jackson still saw the scene slowing down. For a moment he was laughing at Abby's side, still mocking his size, he never tired of raging poor "little" Abby in the company of Sinclair who was walking forward. The second after he felt Abby's hands behind his back and hit hard the floor head first, dragging his friend with him.

 

Jackson had quietly risen, still sounded, a trickle of blood running down his temple. His ears had taken a while to clear.

 

Screams. Horns.

 

_"Where is Abby?"_

 

And he had seen her. Abby. The woman were lying about three meters away, bathing and writhing in pain in a pool of blood, her blood. Jackson had staggered toward her, followed by Sinclair.

 

They should never have.

 

Abby's cries were horrible, inhuman. Her legs were twisted in impossible angles and you could see a piece of bone piercing over his left elbow.

 

Abby had quickly fainted, and the silence afterwards was even more unsustainable than her cries.

 

They did not know what to do, how to react. They had been there, panting, in shock until ambulances and police arrived. Eyes immersed in this sea of red.


	4. IV

_"The fire does not extinguish the fire."_   
_-Erasme_

 

~~~~~

 

-... _Jackson_ , are you listening to me?

 

Jackson blinked a few times and came back to earth. They were in front of a building that looked austere. Abby was staring at him, frowning, obviously waiting for an answer.

 

\- Hmmmm ... Yes, you said-

 

\- Stop.

 

\- What?

 

\- Stop staring at me like this. I already told you, I can not stand when you look at me like that.

 

Jackson sighed silently. He knew there were a lot of scars under his friend's skin that had not closed yet, and Abby was doing her best to hide it. But she could not fool her friends. No normal human could bear all that Abby had experienced.

 

Jackson let the nurses push his friend to the building that did not inspire him with confidence. Abby discreetly glanced anxiously around her. She was playing with the neckline of her sweater, another tic she seemed to have developed after the accident. She was very nervous. It made Jackson sick to see her in this state.

 

Rehab center ? Bullshit. They were going to incarcerate Abby and she would never see the light of day again. The lady at the reception took the name and all the information about Abby and the nurses finally let Jackson take care of his friend, in this case pushing the royal chair - that's how they named the wheelchair from Abby- to her room. The receptionist gave them the number of the room, trusting them to go alone without doing anything upside down.

 

Jackson was pushing slowly, analyzing everything in his path.

 

The corridor was long and lit by pale lights. The doors of the rooms were open and they all contained several beds.

 

A smell of illness and old stagnated as a mood.

 

\- I don’t like this place. You will sleep with a stranger. And it stinks. It's filled with old people.

 

\- Jackson, stop a little. You're still inventing apocalyptic scenarios. They will not turn into zombies or I-do-not-know and come to devour me while I'm helpless.

 

Jackson stopped the chair.

 

\- What do you know about that ? I had started a really popular series, and the main character wakes up in a disused hospital infested with undead! And with "Last train to Busan"...

 

\- Oh no, The Walking Dead, not you too?

 

\- Shh! We're here ... it's your room, "Jackson said, whispering suspiciously.

 

Jackson's tension was so palpable that it went to Abby. She leaned anxiously towards the entrance to see ...

 


	5. V

_"Who carries fire in his heart, his head fumes."_   
_-German proverb_

 

~~~~~

 

A very ordinary room. A window overlooking the courtyard. A sink and a mirror. A door that had to be the toilet.

 

Two beds. Empty.

 

\- Do you ... think you're alone?

 

Jackson had carefully introduced them into the room. Abby felt her breath stop.

 

\- No, look ... This bed is occupied by someone.

 

The first bed was vaguely wrinkled and some pieces of clothing were hanging over the blanket.

 

Then Abby realized the absurdity of the situation. They were really acting excessively. They were not in a soap opera on TV, or in an apocalypse of zombies.

 

"Bring me to my bed so that I put my things down and sit down," he said abruptly. And stop your bullshit!

 

\- It's not my fault ! It makes me nervous all that ... I have a bad feeling about this place.

 

\- Jackson...

 

\- Oh, Abby!... It's ok, no need to hit me!

 

 

~~~~~

 

 

Marcus did not immediately realize that someone else was now also populating his room.

 

He had a second fruitless meeting with the institution's psychologist. He had great difficulty opening up, verbalizing his feelings and impressions, even more so with a stranger who was content to observe and carefully note all his ridiculous manias due to stress. The psychologist never seemed to stop writing, Marcus could hear the pencil scribbling all the time. He said almost nothing, it was still much too early to talk about that day, the day it all happened.

 

Going to his room took him a good ten minutes. He was now advancing unsteadily, very slowly even though he was accompanied (in no case could he have returned to his room by himself). The place gave him the impression of wandering endlessly in a labyrinth. The building had, of course, a very simple structure. But not for him.

 

He stealthily stepped into the doorway and whispered a thank you to the nurse who was holding his arm. She let go but waited a little before leaving.

 

Marcus ran a trembling hand over his bed, as if to smooth the cover, and lay on it, facing the wall. It was barely three o'clock in the afternoon, but he felt exhausted.

 

He had not yet realized the presence of another woman in the room.

 


	6. VI

 

_"Fire is often in the head, rarely in the heart."_   
_-Du Tremblay_

 

~~~~~

 

He awoke with a start a few hours later.

 

Always the same vision, always the same smells, the same cries. His cries.

 

The same violent and atrocious pain spread everywhere in his being.

 

 _Red_.

 

Marcus got up and frantically ripped off the bandages that covered his eyes, his eyes burning with salty tears, open on a dark world. He saw nothing, never nothing. Nothing but black.

 

He quickly wiped his face, put it back on and tried to tie his bandages in place without success. He could not fix the whole thing with that fucking clip...

That's when he heard a slipping somewhere in the room and stopped his movements. A soft voice rose right next to him, a little awkward.

 

\- Do you want me to help you?

 

Marcus took a while to answer. Who did the voice belong to? How long had he been there? Had he seen it?

 

He made himself clear, however, that he did not seem to be able to do it alone, and if he was caught taking off his bandages...

 

\- ...Are you working here? He asked in a voice more uncertain than he would have liked.

 

\- No, I just arrived here. My name is Abigail Griffin, but call me Abby. We'd better arrange that before someone else sees that. Come closer.

 

The voice was still soft and muffled. Marcus turned and tilted his head back, holding out his hand that held the pin.

 

A hand smaller than hers touched his fingers and adroitly tied it all together. Marcus muttered a thank you and remained motionless, not sure how to react for the future. He finally opened his mouth, feeling that the other was not moving.

 

\- ...Marcus Kane. Will you ... share my room?

 

\- Yes, for an...indefinite period. I have to relearn to... well. Hmm, mealtime is over, but one of the nurses, hm... Nathan... something left your tray on the small table at the foot of your bed.

 

\- Oh thank you. Can you tell me the time?

 

\- 6:36 pm

 

Abby went back to her bed with another slip. He still felt talkative and continued the conversation. He spoke in a falsely detached tone:

 

\- My best friend thinks we are in a hospital infested with undead. Is it true?

 

Marcus was taken aback by the question and swallowed his bite.

 

\- ...Sorry ? I... no.

 

His answer was punctuated by another silence. Marcus thought he might have answered a little abruptly. He reprimanded himself:

 

\- Well, everything depends on his vision of the undead... Most of the old here could be considered, but they will not devour us, I think.

 

\- Wow! Abby chuckled. It's ... enough what you say.

 

Marcus felt the shadow of a smile on his lips. Abby's laugh was natural and contagious.

 

\- I'm often told that. Did you arrive today or have you changed rooms?

 

\- I just arrived. It's ... all new to me. But I have confidence, I will give myself thoroughly to get out of here as soon as possible.

 

"That's good," he agreed.

 

Abby was clearly one of those eternal optimists, maybe even one of those who thought everything was happening for a reason. Marcus finished his meal in silence until Nathan passed him about fifteen minutes later. He was very happy to be able to talk to Marcus and see his audience grow. The current had passed between him and Abby.

 

 


	7. VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really sorry for my delay so I post 2 or 3 chapters to apologize 

 

_"The wait is harder to bear than the fire."_  
_-Arab proverb_

 

~~~~~

 

Abby had stifled a little cry when she saw him enter the room. He seemed to be the same age as her, taller than she, jet-black hair, and had a beautiful face. At least, what we saw. His eyes and forehead were covered with tight white bandages. He had taken a few steps without much assurance to his bed, before collapsing.

 

Abby had hesitated before approaching, but the stranger had an unhealthy attraction on her and she succumbed quickly. She had gone near the bed and stretched her neck. The man was breathing calmly and seemed to have fallen asleep, resting his head on the pillow. Abby watched him for a few more minutes, his muscular arms wrapped up in bandages, his back, his slender neck, before taking control of himself.

 

_Frankly. I look like a pervert._

 

She had a twinge in her heart when the other began to moan in his sleep and awoke with a start. Probably a nightmare. Abby also had a lot of them.

 

She finally offered him help, and that's when he heard his voice, saw his thin lips move. Abby shuddered imperceptibly and felt a swarm of butterflies in the hollow of her belly.

 

Is it possible to fall in love with someone's voice?

 

Several days had passed since they met, and Abby was enjoying Marcus' presence more and more, and she felt the same was true for her new friend.

 

Except when he slept, Marcus was rather calm, more withdrawn than Abby. And it made her feel good, she needed that kind of person. Abby should not under any circumstances feel stress. The psychologist diagnosed her with PTSD, a post-traumatic stress disorder. Her environment must have the fewest possible sources that could cause her anxiety.

 

It was hard. Abby felt that she was no longer herself. She was the first surprised when he had excessive reactions. She felt irrational, unfounded feelings. She felt almost continually fear and anguish. Impotence. Her body was out of control at night when she emerged from a nightmare - more a flashback than a nightmare - waved with spasms as she tried to scream at nothing.

 

She was also starting to experience panic attacks when trying to remember the accident. She remembered the truck. She remembered Jackson, trying to save him.

 

But that was all. The rest of which she no longer remembered, she relived it tirelessly every night.

 

Marcus was acting like a balm on her wounds. His presence kept Abby much calmer and lighter. Jackson and Sinclair also did their best to stay quiet when they visited her. But they had been directly involved in the accident and it always ended up damaging her condition. They could never stay long for this reason. It hurt her, Abby. Her friends were missing.

 

But seeing them made her suffer even more. They were patient and understanding, but inside herself Abby hated herself for not being able to spend more time with her friends or accept the help they offered her.

 

Abby and Marcus did not talk about why they were there. It was like a silent agreement. Everyone knew that they were slippery grounds, and they had instinctively understood that the subject was not to be addressed. But Abby could not help thinking about it. What could have done that to Marcus? An accident? An attempted...murder or...suicide?

 

 

Shivers ran down her back when she thought about it. But it was a lot easier to think of someone else's pain than to face his own.

 

 


	8. VIII

 

_"If the free love is a violent fire, the love that is embarrassed is much worse."_

_-Jean-Louis Aubert_

 

~~~~~

 

Marcus Kane appreciated more and more his new "roommate". Abby was always careful not to overgrow him, and he was grateful. Even if, secretly, he had no objection to his living space being invaded by Abby.

 

He knew that Abby was in a wheelchair and that her left arm had also been injured. Nathan had told him about an accident with a truck. Marcus often thought about it. How did it happen? What had happened? Was Abby alone, like him, when it happened? Had she hurt, had she screamed in pain?

 

What did she look like? What color were her hair, her eyes? How did Abby look at him? He was dying to see her smile. To be able to put a face on this voice.

 

Everything, everything brought him back to Abby. And to her companions, who now seemed to live in their room too, so often they came.

 

On the other hand, he found them too noisy. Especially Jackson. Even Marcus, in his condition, had the impression of seeing him go. He laughed and shouted a lot, it was boring. But Marcus did not hate him. Abby's friends, Sinclair and Jackson were the only visitors he received and they did not hesitate to include him in their group. From now on, Nathan was also part of the band, finding all kinds of pretexts to stay in their room.

 

Marcus, he had no visit. He had not kept a good relationship with his parents. See even none. Unable to make money, he was involved in street gang stories. His father had forbidden the rest of the family to see him, to help him or to have any contact with him. But Marcus had received some messages from his mother occasionally. Story of whether he was still alive.

 

And there was his best friend, Indra. They were, in terms of personality, the extremes. Indra was interested in all kinds of things, curious by nature, while Marcus preferred to take care of his own business and was never the one to start the conversation.

 

Why were they best friends? Marcus could not tell. Everything had just started with a story of transfer, the year of their nine years. Marcus had been the first - and the only one - to speak with Indra during recess. And they had never separated since.

 

If Indra had known about everything that had happened, she would have landed the same one at the hospital when Marcus was there. But she had been traveling for a couple of months now - Marcus had not thought of retaining where - to visit her family. She was to return here shortly.

 

Marcus feared but was also looking forward to the return of his best friend. It was good to get away from him sometimes because they lived together, but Marcus never felt complete without Indra. He felt uprooted. No longer inked in the ground, in the life where everything was changing at full speed. Besides, Indra must have been horrified. They had not called, nor had they written since ... the accident. Marcus was unable to do that, and it was now more than a month since he was in this condition.

 

He was looking forward to seeing Indra again. He knew everything would be better when she returned.

 

 


	9. IX

 

_"True love is a devouring fire."_   
_-Jean-Jacques Rousseau_

 

~~~~~

 

Jackson had been the first in their group to come out of the closet. They were then all sixteen or seventeen years old. He had been going to another school boy for a few weeks and had decided one day to introduce him to his incredible friends, who were all very open and accepted him as he was.

 

All that to say that his attendance had not lasted all his life as they imagined, and that Jackson today had a brand new goal.

 

New goal called Nathan Miller.

 

It had been love at first sight. He had seen it for the first time during one of his visits to see Abby with the others.

 

Nathan had arrived in the room, breathless, to tell Marcus something visibly hilarious, for he had had a slight mischievous smile, while Nathan burst out laughing.

 

Jackson had seen him surrounded by a divine aura and enchanting music played in his ears.

 

Then the nurse had turned to them and greeted them, introduced himself and plunged his dark eyes into Jackson's eyes, far too long for it to go unnoticed. He was very sociable. It was strange to understand, but it was as if there had always been a place for him in their group, and that now, quite naturally, he was part of it. He even went to get them to eat because Sinclair was hungry.

 

When Jackson had his last bunch of cookies, he had a slightly bigger smile.

 

Jackson had stayed longer that day since he had come alone. He had talked a lot with Marcus and Abby, who seemed, against all odds, to go wonderfully well. Abby had even agreed that Jackson would take him outside a bit.

 

\- Marcus, does he have visits?

 

-"None," Abby said in a desolate voice. It's pretty sad. He never talks about his friends or ... his family. In fact, he added, it's mostly me who speaks most of the time.

 

\- For change.

 

They both chuckled, and Abby choked on the cold air outside. She did not go out often, it was only the third time she was going for a « walk ». Jackson took a serious tone.

 

\- How are you ? You're doing? The exercises, the physio ... It's difficult?

 

Abby took her time before answering. It was not difficult, it was appalling, painful and atrocious. She had all the time badly, especially at night. And she was suffering for nothing because she could not do anything. Trying to move your legs, lift your arm was enough for the pain to break out.

 

\- ... It's difficult, Jackson. Really.

 

He nodded, there was nothing more to say. Jackson, who was standing behind her, leaned over and delicately wrapped her shoulders and pressed her head to hers.

 

\- You'll get there, Abby. You're the best. It's a hard time, but after all, it will be better. And in the meantime, we're here with you. You are not alone.

 

\- But Jackson ... If I ever ... If I could never ... Walk?

 

Abby's voice broke and she sobbed. Jackson leaned closer and said confidently:

 

\- You'll walk again, Abby Griffin. Do not say such idiocies. I will take care personally, even if it is the last thing I will do on this earth.

 

And he gave her a kisses behind the head.

 

\- Dry your face, we go back. In addition, you are even more ugly when you cry.

 

Abby had laughed and cried at the same time, a happy mixture of diffuse gurgles coming out of her mouth-and had quickly wiped her tears. Jackson had left about ten minutes later, to make sure that his friend was not going to cry again.

 

Just before leaving, he passed Nathan, who was walking nonchalantly nonchalantly in his direction, his coat under his arm.

 

-If it's not Jackson!

 

"If it's not that dear Nathan," Jackson said, squeezing his words. Busy?

 

-No, I just finished for today. It was really a big day, glad it was over.

 

So they walked together to the exit, and Jackson was in a big dilemma while Nathan spoke to him about the old people on the second floor:

 

Was he giving him his phone number now or not? Was he asking for hims? What if he did not have a cell?

 

He was anxiously watching the way out, and he still had not made his choice. He turned too quickly to Nathan while he asked him a question at the same time:

 

\- CanIgetyournumber ?

 

-Youwanttogoeatsomewhere?

 

They smiled nervously. Jackson could not believe his ears: had Nathan just invited him to eat? He replied in a whisper:

 

\- Yes.

 

Nathan nodded and tried to hide the growing smile that split his face.

 

\- Ok, come on, my ... my car is here ... hmm hm.

 

 


	10. X

 

_"Pyromania is not a disease, it's an art."_   
_-Me._

 

~~~~~

 

-Marcus. You know you'll have to talk to me. I can not help you if you do not help first. It's hard, I know it. But you have to get that out, you have to take the first step. Just a little bit.

 

Marcus nodded once more. He understood, of course he understood, he knew it. It was physical. His mouth stopped responding, his throat tightened as soon as he tried to talk about it. He took the glass of water from the table and drank a tiny sip that was hard to get down. They spoke for ten minutes. It was a record for Marcus.

 

-Well, I'll continue in that direction, okay? How would you describe your relationship with your family? With your father especially?

 

He inhaled deeply. Spontaneously, he thought of Abby. He would have liked to have her by his side, right now. He heard her warm voice and laughter. He reluctantly chased the woman away from his thoughts.

 

-Hard ... Ardu. It's like that from the beginning.

 

-And you think it's due to something special? An event maybe?

 

-No. As far back as I can remember, he never ...

 

Marcus shook his head. A tiny sob seemed about to break his lips, but he was clearing his throat just in time.

 

-That's good, Marcus. We'll go smoothly, it's normal not to be able to say everything. Do you still have contacts with your family?

 

-With my mother only, sometimes. She writes to me, just to make sure I get out of it.

 

-Was she aware of your pyromaniac tendencies? And your father ?

 

-What ... What? I ... I would not go until ...

 

-Marcus. It goes without saying that you have a ... "Special relationship" with fire. The facts are there, it's in your file. But you do not have to worry. Nobody knows of course, nobody but you, me and your old psychiatrist. I'm not here to blame you. I also understand that it's new to put a word on that.

 

-No I ... The arsonists are crazy, mentally unbalanced who want to fire everywhere! And that's far from my case!

 

Anger shot up in him for no reason. It had not happened since the accident. They should not have talked about it. It only looked at him and no one else. He automatically put his hand in his pocket to tighten his ...

 

His pocket was empty. Obviously it was empty. It had been weeks since there was nothing left in his pockets. Nothing essential.

 

-Alright Alright. Excuse me. We will not talk about it anymore. I see I made you angry. We finish this here for today, what do you say?

 

He did not answer and he got up, his back stiff, and tried to go himself to the door and, miraculously, managed. He heard the psychologist sigh softly before closing behind him.

 

He was in his room, sitting on his bed, and Nathan carefully changed the bandages around his head, just after taking care of his arms. He monologueed, as often. Abby was not there, she had to do physiotherapy, probably. Marcus thought back to his words earlier in the day during his ... consultation. He interrupted Nathan sharply:

 

-Nathan, would you care if I was a murderer?

 

The question was so sudden and out of context that Nathan stopped his movements, had a quizzical expression and finally burst out laughing.

 

-I'm serious, Nathan.

 

-Marcus, you're definitely not like everyone else. You are not a murderer. What happened to you is an accident. You are not a psychopath nor backward. Me, he said seriously, I work here because I want to believe that I can make a difference. I want to help people. As long as there is someone suffering on this earth, whoever, I will try to be helpful. No matter who. And right now, you are going through difficult times. You, Abby, and so many others ... I want to see the day when you'll be fine again, see smiles on your faces.

 

-... what if that day never came, Nathan?

 

-Oh, he'll come, believe me. Go, enough dark thoughts. I'll go and see if there's anything sweet in the canteen. I come again.

 

Marcus remained motionless, wandering in deep thoughts.

 

_The arsonists are crazy, mental imbalances who want to fire everywhere!_

 

 

 

It was exactly what he was. An imbalance that, like Nero, was likely to see his world burn.

 


	11. XI

 

_"The memory is full of distorted images that a distant fire illuminates."_   
_-Hubert Haddad_

 

~~~~~

 

Marcus did not know there was a phone in the room at their disposal. Nobody had thought it proper to tell him, nor had he fallen on it "by chance", like the trash (full of course) that he had knocked down several times.

 

But he knew it when the strident ring woke him with a start. He then heard Abby frantically trying to take the call, knocking several things down.

 

-Hm, Abby Griffin, hell... Hello? .... Hum? Oh, yes, one minute.

 

More noise, then Abby's chair slipping by his side. Marcus turned his head towards her, an expression of apprehension on his face. Abby whispered in a deep but surprised voice:

 

-It's for you.

 

Her little warm hand took Marcus's hand and put the phone down there. A shiver ran through him. He grabbed the phone a little too hard.

 

Who could call? Why ? He swallowed and brought the handset close to his head.

 

-Hello?

 

-... Marcus?

 

A hoarse voice answered him. A voice he recognized among a thousand.

 

-Indra? Indra, it's you?

 

Emotion swallowed him raw, he clung desperately after the phone. He felt that tears and sobs were not far away. Weeks that he had not heard the voice of his best friend. Weeks that had lasted years.

 

-Oh my god ... oh my ... Marcus, you ... what happened?

 

Indra cried. She did not hold back her tears. Marcus felt his salty tears burn his eyes under his bandages, and a huge weight fell on his chest. He was so sad and so happy at the same time, it was unbearable. His voice broke when he replied:

 

-Come see me. I beg you ... Come see me, Indra!

 

-You take me for who ? I am at the entrance. I-

 

-Do not hang up, Indra, not before you get here.

 

-OK. I am three bedrooms ... Two bedrooms ...

 

Marcus squeezed the phone harder and stood up shaking because he heard Indra's voice in the machine but also in the hallway.

 

-Marcus.

 

Marcus threw the phone on the floor and rushed towards the voice, towards Indra. The impact was terrible, but Indra was careful to keep them standing. His arms crushed Marcus against his chest, hurting him. But they did not care. Marcus felt he was going to explode with joy, sadness ... everything at the same time. He wanted to stay that way forever. The rest of the world did not exist anymore, just Indra and him. Huge sobs shook them and they finally slid to the floor on the floor in a complicated human entanglement. Abby had to have a wonderful vision.

 

Indra kept mumbling through her tears the name of Marcus in a loop.

 

-Marcus ... Oh lord ... Marcus ... I ... Marcus ...

 

 

They remained so until they had ants in their legs. They got up clumsily and sat side by side on the bed. Silently.

 

 


	12. XII

 

_"When did we forget that love is a fire to feed?"_   
_-Frédérique Deghelt_

 

~~~~~

 

Jackson is considered a scholar. He loved messing around, taking on more stupid challenges than one another and doing crazy things. But he also loved books. He loved immersing himself in other worlds, learning about everything, reading detective novels, horror ... He was never seen in the library for one reason: he did not like not the atmosphere that reigned there. The libraries were too big, had too much space and there was always something or someone to distract him. But he was nevertheless far from lacking in this radius.

 

What made him happy were the days when he worked in the small second-hand bookshop in the city center. It was tiny and the few people who came in were either regulars or were getting fast enough. There was a cozy, intimate atmosphere, and the smell of books and stories permeated the air. There were all kinds, from big leather manuscripts to a pocket edition of a dictionary, to a Canary Island travel guide thirty years ago.

 

Jackson had been working there for a few years and the owners were friends of his parents. It happened quite often, the weekend afternoons, to be alone. And he loved it.

 

He glanced at what he had just written. A story ? It was a few lines that did not really make sense. It happened to him often now, as soon as he began to think of Nathan, he scribbled sentences without tail or head.

 

He was thinking back to the restaurant where they had gone together. The food had been so good. They ended up drinking too much too and had to sober up on the beach before they could go home. Everything had gone so well, just like in the movies. The sea before them, the stars above their heads, it had seemed to them that they could remain so forever.

 

They had seen each other often. In fact, every time Jackson went to visit Abby. Magically, Nathan had appeared.

 

Oh, what a coincidence, Jackson, you're here too!

 

Oouuh! I did not know you were there!

 

Jackson! What a coincidence !

 

Obviously, his game no longer deceived anyone. Abby and Marcus were beginning to think of telling them to go get a room. Finally, another room.

 

Jackson was determined to see Nathan again. Outside the hospital.

 

He had gone back to get a box of new arrivals and did not hear the little bell - my faith old enough, and in fact it did not even tinkle, but she was pretty - who announced the arrival of a new customer .

 

The latter approached the counter, observed the open notebook that sat there and read without a hitch a few lines. He observed the piles of books, used, new, saved from certain death; the shelves filled up to the ceiling (which was not so high either). He decided that he liked this place and that he had done well to enter it.

 

Jackson came back into the shop, the huge box in his arms, and only had time to see the back of the newcomer's head, saluted him, and stepped into the old carpet that lay on the ground.

 

He fell in front of the first and the whole contents of his box sprawled on the floor.

 

\- No, THE BOOKS !!

 

He cried, desperate. They were all going to be broken, the corners of the pages would all be bent ... What a fool he was!

 

\- Hey, that's ... Jackson?

 

\- Nathan ?? How ... you ??

 

\- It's okay ? Do you want that-

 

They spoke at the same time, of course. It was a mania at home. Jackson looked up, a broad smile on his lips. He was still lying on the floor. Nathan smiled at him in return and held out his hand. Jackson made palpitations that threatened to knock him down and put his hand in Nathan's. He pulled hard, and Jackson found himself standing, almost nose-to-nose with his friend.

 

Magnificent. Oh Lord, thank you, a thousand thanks.

 

They were too close, but neither of them pretended to deviate. There was a discreet and irresistible glint in Nathan's gaze, whose smile had become slightly glamorous. Eyes in the eyes, hand in hand, their hearts were pounding.

 

Jackson saw a golden opportunity there to finally say one of his famous "pickup lines".

 

\- You know what material this is? He whispered, gripping Nathan's t-shirt tightly through the collar.

 

"Boyfriend material" he finished with his air, while Nathan burst out laughing.

 

The laughter passed, they quietly picked up the books spread around them while discussing, throwing themselves from time to time looks stealthily. They behaved literally like kids.

 

\- So, are you working here? I did not know you had a job ... or that you're like a bookworm. It is surprising !

 

\- People always look surprised ... It's almost vexing! He smiled at Nathan to show him that he was not serious. The owners know my parents for a long time. I really like this place. Here, it's really perfect to write.

 

\- Hmmm ... so it's you who wrote ... This?

 

Nathan grabbed the notebook and brandished it triumphantly under Jackson's nose, his eyes widening in terror. He tried to regain his precious good and followed a chaotic chase in the - tiny, remember - room. Jackson finally gave in and gave up.

 

\- Do you write in French too?

 

\- Of course ! My French is very good. I have already traveled to France.

 

Jackson's French was execrable and Nathan would probably soon find out because everyone knew it.

 

\- By the way, did you come looking for something in particular? You do not work ?

 

\- Oh, no, the showcase just inspired me ... and I did well to enter. Nathan insisted on his last words as he glanced at Jackson. I'm not in a hurry either, I'm off!

 

\- It's perfect. Do you want a tea or coffee?

 

\- A good coffee, yes, especially ... If it is you who prepares it.

 

\- Of course, Nathan.

 

 


	13. XIII

 

_"Time is a fire that devours me but I am fire."_   
_-Borgès_

 

~~~~~

 

Marcus slept little at night. He slept little in general, but taking naps during the day caused insomnia when he could enjoy it the most. He quickly discovered that Abby's sleep was anything but restorative.

 

He could hear her moving suddenly every five minutes and sometimes hear her mumble something.

 

Abby averaged a dozen nightmares each night. Marcus could predict all the warning signs, and when that happened, he would wring himself in his own bed, wondering if he should intervene, or whether he should rather ignore and pretend to hear nothing. Pretend not to hear the woman's jerky breathing, not to hear her wake up and cry.

 

But he had enough. He would not admit it was because it broke his heart, but he did not want to hear Abby like that anymore. He needed a strong Abby, sure of herself and determined to get through all that.

 

The next night, the cycle began again, first the dry sounds of the bed, then the breathing that became oppressed and finally the groans of Abby.

MMarcus  stood silently and laboriously approached his companion's bed without dropping anything. Miracle.

 

He leaned over what he supposed to be Abby's head. He carefully moved a hand but suspended his gesture. Abby was talking. A name.

 

Marcus ...

 

Something deep inside him grabbed his stomach and turned him upside down. Abby had just said her name. She called him. Did she dream of him? Was she awake?

 

Marcus did not hesitate any longer. Without thinking, he managed to sit on the edge of the bed and fumbled until he found Abby's burning face. He took it in dome, then wondered what to do next.

 

Should he wake her up? It was not dangerous to wake them up in a dream? He felt his friend's tears on his fingers.

 

He took a shoulder from Abby and shook her gently, then louder and louder, almost violently calling her.

 

\- Abby ... Abby, st-stop .... Abby ... Ab ... stop, please ...

 

Abby shrugged and silence fell. She was still breathing hard, and Marcus felt all the tension in the air go down a bit. He quickly removed his hands from Abby's body, embarrassed.

 

\- It'll be fine .... It's finished.

 

\- Mar ... Marcus? Are you OK ?

 

\- You had a nightmare. I just wanted to wake you up.

 

\- But ... But you cry?

 

Marcus raised his hands, but Abby's quickly rested on his face and gently wiped away the tears that were moistening his cheeks. New short circuit in his brain, he had the impression to see white. All white. His thoughts were neither tails nor heads. It was he who had to reassure Abby, it was Abby who was not well ... He did not control anything anymore.

 

His hand rested on the woman's hand and held it tight. He had a tight throat again, for no reason. Abby withdrew her hand from the embrace, took Marcus' shoulders and squeezed him against him. Marcus finally grabbed his friend's shirt and squeezed it so hard that they lost their breath. And they stayed that way for a long time. Abby ends up whispering in the hollow of her ear:

 

\- Promise me to wake up again in the future.

 

And Marcus only managed to nod in the crook of his neck.

 

 


	14. XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite everything, Abby still has hope...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do not hesitate to tell me what you think about it ;)

 

_"It's true that sometimes, getting too close to the fire, you end up getting burned."_   
_-Simone Elkekes_

 

~~~~~

 

Abby was certainly making progress. The exercises made her suffer, so much pain. But she was able to stand up. Not alone, of course. There were two beams, as the dancers use, horizontal and parallel in front of her. She was standing in front of them, between the two bars. The exercise consisted of getting up alone from her chair and then supporting herself with the help of the beams, using her two arms. Her left arm was still weak, she had to be very careful. Staying there, she had to slowly lift one leg, fold it and unfold it, and perform the same process with the other leg. Later, she should walk. The beams were only two meters long. She should soon break that distance.

 

Two meters.

 

Abby could barely stand up for more than 30 seconds. Two meters seemed impossible to her. It would be impossible for her.

 

But she was making progress. It was undeniable. Finally, she could now stand almost alone! It took her ten minutes, but she got there.

 

Her patience, her determination and her will were put to the test. But when she saw Marcus again, it all came to the background.

 

Marcus seemed to have quite a bit of trouble and Abby felt he was keeping a lot of things to himself. He was worse than an oyster. And he was particularly bad after his appointments with the psychologist.

 

For her part, Abby was doing her best with her psychologist. She was trying to do her best. But the problem was physical too. As soon as she tried to talk about it, to remember, her body was shaking with spasms. The psychologist had prescribed small so-called "soothing" pills. That's what she was reduced to.

 

~~~~~

 

The sun had been shining in the sky for two days and Abby felt an irrepressible need to go outside. At least on the balcony. She could not stand the smell inside, she needed fresh, cold air. It had been a week since she had left.

 

Arriving in her room, right after her physiotherapy, she had an illumination when she saw Marcus in the same position she had left him an hour earlier: lying on his bed.

 

"Marcus," she called in her most muffled voice. She did not want to wake him up if he slept.

 

\- Hum? Abby?

 

\- I have a huge service to ask you.

 

\- What service could I render you in my condition?

 

Always fatalistic. Abby hid the half-smile on her face before remembering that Marcus could not see it. It was difficult because he had no more bandages now. Thin streaks ran through his white skin around his eyes and nose. It made Abby feel bad to see that, to imagine Marcus's face bleeding...

 

\- I want to go outside, and I want you to come with me. That you take me there.

 

Marcus seemed to think and took his time before answering.

 

\- ... Why ? Go with Nathan it will make him happy.

 

\- Nathan does not work today. And everyone is busy. And you too need to get out of here. It's been a week that you stay in your bed and just go out for your appointments. And ... I want to go with you.

 

\- Abby. You seem to forget that I do not see anything.

 

\- Marcus. You just have to push me. I will be your eyes. It's not far, it's just down the hall.

 

-... It's far away for me ... I can not do it.

 

Abby came closer and took Marcus's hand in hers. He jumped but did not withdraw his hand. Abby squeezed harder.

 

\- Please. It'll do us good ... You don’t trust me?

 

\- It's not a matter of trust, is it-

 

\- If it is. Please ?

 

Marcus did not move and tilted his head to one side. He thought and then stood up carefully. He did not answer Abby, but went clumsily to the closet to take his scarf and put on a warmer jacket.

 

\- So you're coming ? Marcus finally asked, who had noticed Abby's lack of movement.

 

\- I ... yes, wait!

 

She thought that convincing Marcus would have been more difficult, but in the end ... She was not going to complain. She came to stand in front of Marcus, who placed his hands on both handles. He inhaled deeply several times.

 

\- You'll get there, Marcus. We'll get there together, okay?

 

 


	15. XV

 

_"Who wants fire must suffer smoke."_   
_-German proverb_

 

~~~~~

 

Marcus nodded and pushed a little.

 

"Turn a little to the left," whispered Abby. Ok, now, on the right, we passed the door. They walked along the whole corridor, avoiding walls, people, doors and any obstacle standing in their way. And when they finally found themselves on the balcony in the cold November air, they felt wonderful for the first time in a long time. Abby was happy to be cold, happy to feel her lungs swell with fresh air and to feel something other than pain.

 

Marcus saw nothing, but he did not care. He did not need to see the sun to feel his rays caressing his skin. He did not need to see the bare branches of the trees swinging in the north wind, he could feel it whipping his hair and blushing his cheeks. A big smile appeared on his face. Abby looked at Marcus, and was struck by sincerity in his smile.

 

Marcus then put his hand on Abby's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

 

"Thank you" he murmured.

 

Abby hesitated before putting her hand on Marcus's. A comfortable silence settled between them.

 

 

~~~~~

 

 

It had been a long night and everything was calm in the building. The lights in the hallway were on and many nurses were still active, of course, but that was not what kept Abby from falling asleep. Their door was ajar, they were not the patients with the most need at night.

 

The moon suddenly illuminated the silent room with a milky glow. Abby listened once more. Marcus's breathing was calm, peaceful. It did not happen to him often.

 

Abby thought. She was playing and replaying in her head what had happened. Because something had happened between her and Marcus on the balcony. And all those little moments where they seemed to be getting closer. She felt ten years younger when she was still immature and shy about her own feelings. She did not just appreciate Marcus. She had fallen in love with him.

 

Abby ends up sitting on her bed, tired of turning around and returning. She looked at the time on her cell: two past ten. She was perfectly awake, how was she going to survive the next day? She thought about her physiotherapy as well. And an idea crossed her mind.

 

She slowly folded her legs and let them hang out of bed. She slipped carefully out of bed. Her feet touched the cold floor in a dull sound. A hand on the bar that was the headboard, the other hand hanging well after her chair, she tried to stand up. Her legs shook and refused to support her. She fell heavily on the bed. Without getting discouraged, she tried again. Clenching her teeth, she gave a hip blow and succeeded.

 

She could not hold back a small cry of pain. An electric discharge from her heel and went up to the basin. She was trembling now with all her body, but still refused to give up.

 

She stepped aside. Then another, just as uncertain. The pain was not gushing. She wanted to go back to the bed, it was too much, she should not have, but suddenly her left leg dropped her. She tried to regain her balance, to restrain herself from something and her hands closed on the void.

 

She fell heavily to the ground. And the suffering was almost as bad as the day of the accident, without all the blood scattered everywhere. Abby writhed on the floor, unable to scream, unable to move. She thought it would never end, she was going to die there. She was nearly fainting when two strong arms took her quickly, causing her acute pain in the lower back, and laid her on the bed. Abby could hear nothing, could not see anything, she was just hurting, hurting, so badly.

 

 


	16. XVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting you today one of the chapters I've most liked written, so enjoy ~

 

_"The memory is full of distorted images that a distant fire illuminates."_   
_-Hubert Haddad_

 

~~~~~

 

After what seemed like hours, her whole body finally calmed down. She stopped shaking, her muscles relaxed and the pain eased slightly. Her breathing slowed down and she recognized the person by her side.

 

Marcus was leaning over her and holding her face in a dome. Abby felt the icy hands on her cheeks. She finally realized that Marcus was whispering in a terrified voice against her ear.

 

\- Ab ... Abby! Abby, everything's fine, it's okay ... Calm down, relax, oh my god ... Abby ??

 

\- ... Marcus?

 

Her hoarse voice rang out in the room, even more so when she realized she was crying.

 

And she was not there alone. Marcus had dripping cheeks, and under his black hair his eyes were open. It was clear enough for Abby to notice the whites of Marcus's blood-soaked eyes. She had a heartache when she saw the slightly veiled black pupils who were looking at him without seeing him, looking for her face.

 

Abby lifted her valid arm and wiped Marcus's face, one cheek, then another, with one shaky hand. She hesitated for a split second before putting her arm behind his friend's neck and pulling against her. Marcus did not even oppose and fell softly on Abby. The pillow stifled his hiccups, which finally calmed down as Abby continued to stroke his hair.

 

Marcus finally got up and sat on the bed, one hand still hanging on Abby's t-shirt. He could feel Abby's heart beating under his palm. His eyes were burning, but he did not care. He should have done something. He should have stopped her. He was still sleeping when he heard Abby get up. But no, he had waited for the woman to fall to act. And all he had found was to cry. What an idiot he was doing.

 

And he was mad at Abby too. She should not push herself or hurt herself again. This step of his recovery was crucial. But no, impatient as she was, she had to try by herself, to prove to herself that she was better than that.

 

She left nothing of her inner struggle, as always. He began to have numb legs and pretended to get up, but Abby hugged him harder, closer. The woman then sank to the left to make more space for Marcus.

 

\- Stay.

 

One word, a whisper. An order, a promise.

 

Marcus thought too much. Could he stay? Did he want to, was it ... allowed? A ton of emotions jostled in him. He could not deny his attraction to Abby. He did not like physical contact very much, but Abby's was electrifying him every time. And, at the moment more than others, it seemed reciprocal.

 

He turned his head and the rest of his body towards Abby, lying down trying to occupy as little space as possible. Abby's hand found its way back into his hair, before slipping and touching his jaw, his chin, his cheek...

 

He would have given everything to see Abby at this moment. See her eyes and what they said, see her expression. See her face once and for all ...

 

He had a short circuit in the brain when Abby's fingers brushed against his lips. Marcus hastily took Abby's hand in his own to stop her, to stop himself. Their fingers crisscrossed almost too naturally.

 

But that was fine with both of them.

 

Hundreds of questions assaulted Marcus.

 

Abby was scared, needed answers.

 

But they could live with it.

 

Because at that moment, they felt their fingers intertwined, their heat mix and their hearts beat together, in unison.

 

 

Abby took the big blanket at her feet and pulled it to their chins. Then she lodged her face gently in Marcus' neck, who waved his arm over her shoulders in a protective gesture.

 

 


	17. XVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's why...

 

_"If you blow on the spark, it will burn like a fire."_   
_-Proverb of the Bible_

 

_~~~~~_

 

_-So that's where you hide? Pathetic. The big Marcus Kane, find refuge in an old mill._

 

_-What, what are you going to do to me? Throw a sack of flour in my face?_

 

_-Bastard. Have you ever been told what happens when you gang up on a gang? I'm going to kill you._

 

_His breathing is sibilant. He warms up, his blood is boiling in his veins. He can not take it anymore, he must let everything out._

 

_He sees the punch leaving. He lets it crash on his jaw. His nose is bleeding._

 

_Another one._

 

_-You like this ? Huh? What do you think about it ?_

 

_He falls to the ground, and kicks in the belly. A metallic taste filled his mouth. The other man stands in front of his face, he looks at him from his full height. He raises his foot, the scales ..._

 

_A dump shakes his body. He grabs the foot and the wrong with ease. The man screams and falls in his turn. Marcus climbs him, and strikes him again and again, still, bleeds, bleeds, bastard._

 

_He stands up, his vision is red. Red. His hoarse voice rings hollow in the room._

 

_\- Flour, hm? What am I going to do with it?_

 

_He raises a big bag, gathers it with his hunting knife and turns on himself. Everything becomes white around him, he seems to dance in a storm. He throws the bag aside, and opens another. Repeat, this time by pouring only on the man on the ground. The air becomes unbreathable, and the stranger begins to cough._

 

_-What are you doing, dirty idiot?_

 

_A hysterical laugh shakes him. He slowly takes out his lighter._

 

_\- Why a mill, you say? Did you know that the finer the flour is, the better it burns? It's like gunpowder. This flour is ordinary, but it should do the trick._

 

_His lighter sputters, hiccups._

 

_The other man's eyes widen. Oh yes, he just understood._

 

_Then it's hell._

 

_Fire is exploding everywhere, everywhere. The man screams with terror, tries to get up. The fire already sticks to his clothes, burns his flesh. He screams in pain._

 

_And Marcus is here. The lighter falls from his hands, while the flames attack him too._

 

_He has pain too. He lowers his eyes at his feet. Two bags of flour explode in his eyes, in his face and throw him hard on the ground. He does not see anything anymore. The fire begins to devour his clothes, his flesh, his skin, he feels melt. He opens his eyes, red, red, burning, before everything goes out. His legs move alone, take him out of the infernal heat._

 

 

It starts again.

 

He sees red. He sees the explosion. He sees the fire. He sees a body, he sees his body, his arms burned.

 

Red, flames, he-

 

Marcus opened his eyes with a start and let out a cry of terror. He straightened up, his eyes hurt so badly, there was too much light, too much light-

 

Light ?

 

Abby was already awake because she took him by the shoulders and tried to calm him down. She mumbled words that did not reach the ears of Marcus.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He saw.

 


	18. XVIII

_"My mother told me every day_   
_Always pay attention to men_   
_Because love is like playing with fire_   
_I would be hurt."_   
_-Blackpink - Playing with fire_

 

~~~~~

 

He only saw white, it bruised the inside of his head. But he did not care. His voice came out tiny, frail. He had already forgotten his nightmare.

 

\- Abby? ... Is there sun?

 

Abby had an eloquent silence, then exploded.

 

\- Marcus ?? MARCUS, YOU SEE? The ... How is it possible? YOU ARE HURT ? Close your eyes, do not look at him for a long time,

 

Marcus wanted to get up and go to the window, get more, see, but Abby stopped him. She gently placed his hands on Marcus' eyelids, who had no choice but to close them. Abby whispered against his ear:

 

\- Come back here. Wait a minute, Marcus, otherwise you'll hurt yourself.

 

Marcus sat back, knowing that Abby was perfectly right. He remembered why he was there.

 

They had slept together. In the same bed.

 

He remembered Abby's fingers on his lips.

 

\- I want to see you.

 

These were the only words he could utter.

 

He was finally able to get up after the series of small exams and tests that the doctor had given him.

 

"That's what I thought," said the doctor solemnly. Marcus Kane, you're actually covering up.

 

He did not believe his ears. Or his eyes rather.

 

\- We will have to keep you a little longer, just to make sure everything is back to normal. You understand ?

 

\- Yes Yes of course.

 

\- Until then, I imagine that it will be difficult or impossible to resist the temptation to open your eyes and try to distinguish something. I will still warn you: do not force anything. I know, you're in a hurry, but do not force anything. This would have a definite consequence if your right eye develops faster than the left eye, or one of the two ... does not come back at all. Okay ?

 

Marcus had listened to him anxiously.

 

"Yes," he replied hastily, which earned him a look of disapproval from the doctor (whom he did not see, but whom he felt with that kind of sixth sense which had awakened in him since his accident).

 

\- Well, go now.

 

He got up and, as soon as his back was turned, he opened his right eye. He saw a tiny blur of very fuzzy light dancing in front of him. He sighed in spite. Nathan, waiting for him behind the door, opened it and guided him to his room.

 

\- So, is it true? What did he say ?

 

Marcus repressed his enthusiasm a little, and replied in a falsely-posed voice:

 

\- I'm finding the view.

 

Nathan uttered an exclamation and held Marcus in his arms, surprising him like never before.

 

\- Marcus, I'm SO happy for you !! It's awesome ! You and Abby are finally going out of here! "He exclaimed in a radiant voice.

 

\- .. Abby?

 

\- She did not tell you? Oh, uh ...

 

\- What? Did not tell me what?

 

What did not Abby tell him? Marcus felt the shadow of betrayal and worry, but Nathan slapped him on the shoulder.

 

\- Come on, do not do this burial face, this is good news. I just remembered she wanted to surprise you. But never mind, you'll pretend you did not know, ok? Abby is here for a maximum of two more weeks, her progress is incredible according to the physiotherapists - considering the seriousness of what happened to her.

 

The tension that had accumulated in her belly relaxed at once. He smiled sincerely, but it was short-lived. He dared to ask the itchy question since the first time Abby had spoken to him.

 

\- ... Nathan ... Are you aware of what happened to her?

 

There was a silence during which Nathan carefully searched his words.

 

\- I ... yes, the other nurses have talked a lot about it. And ... and you too. You are probably the two most famous patients here. Abby ... She was hit by a truck that was driving at almost 40 kilometers an hour. She saved the lives of her friends, J-Jackson in particular. Her two legs were broken under the impact, and her left arm too. But, Marcus, do not talk to her about it.

 

He shook his head slowly from left to right. Of course he was not going to rock it all in the face. He really pities Abby. He almost had a hiccup when he tried to imagine the scene.

 

Abby was even more exceptional than Marcus thought. He wanted to be there. He wished he could save her. Avoid her having to go through all this, keep him safe and sound.

 

 

 

And then it hit him like a punch centered in the stomach.

 

 

 

 

He wanted to protect Abby. Forever. He wanted to be with her forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Because he loved her._

 

 


	19. XIX

  
_"Like fire, life begins with smoke and ends with ash."_   
_-Arab proverb_

 

~~~~~

 

Another hidden side of Jackson was that he was very, very romantic. In his relationships, he had always been the one who loved to do candlelit dinners, the one who came closest to him, the one who crossed the living space of his partner as often as possible. He loved to listen to a film well stuck, cook in the morning for him and his partner of the moment ... And he wanted to live all that with Nathan. And more. Take long walks on the edge of the water, observe the stars late at night, engrave their names on the trunk of a tree.

 

He observed himself in the mirror. He had put on comfortable clothes, his finest shoes completed the whole thing. It was Friday, he was not working. He looked at the time for the sixteenth time. He was excited like a flea.

 

He saw Nathan today!

 

They had to meet early in the afternoon, and Jackson had not told Nathan what they were going to do. He went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, contemplating the delicious meal he had concocted. He was going to take Nathan to the little mountain on the edge of the city, take him to the top - there was a little temple that Jackson called a secret, because it was almost only by chance - then they would eat together.

 

It was cold and cloudy outside. Jackson smiles mischievously: if it starts to rain, they would be cold ... And Nathan would come perhaps closer .... He imagined already to lay his arm gallantly around the shoulders of the youngest to bring him against him...

 

The short vibration that came from his cell pulled him out of his waking dream. It was Nathan.

 

-It is raining...

 

-I know. Always ready ?

 

"If you told me where we're going?

 

-Surprise ~~

 

He only had to finish the picnic, put it in his backpack and wait for the time to leave. He opened the fridge again and gazed almost lovingly at his preparations. He cooked very simply by following his recipe book.

 

Because he was not good at all for cooking. He managed to burn instant rice bags. Literally. He lied to himself by making himself believe he was talented. He planned that this picnic would be a real success.

 

The time to leave finally arrived, and Jackson was in such a hurry that he arrived far too early in the place of the rendezvous. He had to wait for fifteen minutes in the light rain before seeing Nathan at the end of the street.

 

He had the good idea to have an umbrella, something that had escaped Jackson. He was wearing rain boots. It had also escaped Jackson.

 

Nathan had black pants too. Which were just pretty skinny. Jackson's gaze sparkled. Finally, a white-and-blue striped t-shirt that let, lord, see one of his collarbones-under his long raincoat.

 

Jackson had never seen anything so beautiful.

 

Nathan, however, had before him the vision of a soaked Jackson, wearing beautiful but useless shoes in this temperature, droplets full of hair made him look almost miserable. His backpack seemed packed and nothing covered his neck. Still, a big smile lit up his face.

 

Finally, Nathan had arrived! They greeted each other, hugged each other, perhaps slightly more than friendly, and Jackson finally revealed the plan for the afternoon. He pointed at the mountain with a conquering air, explaining that they were going up to the summit. Nathan seemed pleased with the proposal and they set off. But just before he got closer and Jackson snapped at him for no apparent reason.

 

\- You'll catch cold, arranged as you are. Why did not you put on a scarf? And what are these shoes when it's raining?

 

Jackson's cheeks were already colored by the cold but they blushed a little. He tried to stammer out an answer that drowned happily in the roar of a garbage truck that spilled a foul smell on them.

 

They stopped their noses laughing and advanced faster. They quickly reached the foot of the mountain. The road was a bit muddy and had few holds for their feet, so they skidded often. Especially Nathan, who persisted in keeping his umbrella open.

 

After about fifteen minutes, they were too breathless to speak, and contented themselves with continuing to mount in silence, one behind the other. They had left the main road to borrow a more sinuous, and especially more suspicious in the opinion of Nathan. He was convinced that Jackson had no idea where they were going. And hunger began to scold his stomach. After a particularly loud and embarrassing gurgling from the youngest, Jackson stopped, caught his breath and glanced at his companion.

 

\- I'm hungry too.

 

\- Is it ... Are we coming soon? You ... we're not lost, hm?

 

\- Of course not ! Still ten minutes maximum ... I swear it's worth it!

 

And they went away laboriously, their shoes stuck and heavy with mud.

 

Suddenly, Jackson slipped and fell face down on the floor. Nathan stepped aside, flew to his aid and helped him up.

 

\- Jackson! It's okay ? Wait, you're bleeding!

 

He had actually landed on a rock, and a trail of blood was already flowing from his chin. Nathan wanted to make him sit, but they had finally arrived.

 

\- Nathan, look! Turn around !! We arrived !! He said excitedly, forgetting his chin that was staining his clothes.

 

 


	20. XX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are only two chapters left, it's almost the end: '(

 

_"We do not know what cloud the rain falls."_   
_-Korean proverb_

 

~~~~~

 

He took his companion's hand and guided him to the temple despite his protests. They climbed the few stone steps and passed the two lions guarding the entrance. They had to go to the end to get the view.

 

\- But wait, Jackson, we have to disinfect before, Jackson! Jackson!

 

\- Nathan, look.

 

Jackson took her head and turned her towards the horizon. Nathan's eyes widened and he lost his breath a few moments before the beauty of the landscape.

 

They were almost at the top of the mountain. The part of the temple where they were was almost empty. They saw the sky covered to infinity, and below stretched the forest, the trees, then the city, and further still the sea. It was magic. They watched for a long time the landscape lost in the rain, panting.

 

Their hands were still united, and it took them a moment to realize. Nathan quickly untied his hand and rummaged in his bag to pull out a handkerchief. He approached Jackson again, who instinctively held his breath, and taped the thin cut. His gestures were precise, his attentive eyes glued to the chin, which was still bleeding a little.

 

Jackson stared at him openly, breathing still missing. Everything in him was screaming to go away and approach at the same time. Nathan was far too close. Impossible to miss his thin lips now pink because of the cold, to ignore his beautiful eyes ... Jackson was melting little by little.

 

It was only a tiny wound separating their faces so close. He bit his lower lip, which stopped Nathan's movement, who looked up to plant them in his. It became dangerous.

 

Nathan's hand dropped his chin, crumpled the stained handkerchief and let it casually fall to the floor. Still without looking away, Nathan slowly slid his hand into Jackson's neck to finally grip his neck.

 

Jackson could not take it anymore. His skin was electrified under Nathan's fingers. This one seemed to be waiting for something, a sign of some kind. The question was in his eyes. Jackson could not think of anything, nothing but Nathan, his face in front of him, his mouth. He grabbed the sides of his companion's coat and pulled lightly- so lightly...

 

Nathan lifted his head - he did not need more to understand - and their lips finally touched. Their arms tensed with envy, trying to get even closer as they began their first kiss with ardor, with flame and desire.

 

Jackson wanted to scream so it was good. Their breaths mingled, their heartbeats became one. Jackson could not even define the limits of his own body anymore. Nathan was flattened against him, their hands still searching for more skin, more tissue to grip. It was exhilarating. Nathan was exhilarating, never had anyone made that impression. No one.

 

They suddenly lost ground when Nathan went one step further to try to get closer and got tangled in their legs. They fell on the stone floor, but it took nothing away from the exaltation of the moment, on the contrary, they rolled and continued to kiss passionately, as if they were alone in the world.

 

Nathan's mouth was pressed against his, it was sweet, it was warm, it was bewitching. How long had they waited for this moment? At the end of what seemed like an eternity, they restored a semblance of space between their faces. Jackson was above Nathan. They stood like that, shaking, eyes in their eyes, trying to find their breaths. Their eyes spoke for them. Jackson smirked as he analyzed what had happened, made sure he was not dreaming. Nathan replied to his smile ecstatically and kissed him again, more gently this time.

 

 

  
This triggered a new discharge of desire in their bodies - of desire, and of love.

 

 


	21. XXI

  
_"Life is like fire: flame, smoke and ashes."_   
_African proverb_

 

~~~~~

 

Abby was too happy to see Jackson. Her friend had come to spend the afternoon in the center. They were on the balcony, only still. Abby seemed to be the only one to go, accompanied either by her friends or, of course, by Marcus.

 

_Marcus._

 

Abby had too many questions, too many thoughts about her roommate. After the night they had spent together ... Even a blind man - the word game was incredible - could guess that something was going on. She wanted to talk to Jackson about it, she needed help, she did not know where she was or what she wanted. Jackson was beside her, lazily leaning against the rail, in a position reminiscent of the actors in the movies.

 

In spite of the fact that Jackson was probably the most bizarre and the least serious of their band, he was strangely the one with whom Abby was most able to talk about serious things. She opened her mouth, determined to empty ers heart, but her friend beat him.

 

\- I saw Nathan yesterday. We went to the mountains, and my picnic was disgusting ...

 

\- What a surprise ! Abby answered with a laugh, not surprised in the least. And so, that was good?

 

"Yes," said Jackson dreamily, "he kissed me."

 

A short silence followed this declaration without preamble. Jackson had always had a gift for announcing big news as if nothing had happened. Abby exploded with joy and imprisoned his friend in her arms as best he could.

 

\- It was time ! We could not stand your thinly veiled minauderies. It was starting to get boring ...

 

\- It will be even worse now, since it's official.

 

\- Lord, help me ...

 

\- Stop, you should be happy for me! Speaking of good news, do you have the date of your release?

 

\- Next week, I don’t know when. Look!

 

She went to the railing, barred her chair, and securely held the guard. She counted up to three in her head and rose slowly, with a little less difficulty than before. It was easier with a support. Jackson held his other arm and looked at her with an impressed look.

 

\- Abby ... It's amazing !! Did I tell you? Did I tell you that? "Jackson chanted victoriously.

 

\- It's good, it's fine!

 

They laughed a while longer, creating clouds of vapor in the air. Jackson was trying to do as much as he could, he had always loved it.

 

\- Jackson ... I need to talk to you about something. I ... I need advice.

 

\- Hm? Compared to what ?

 

\- Compared to Marcus.

 

\- Hmmm explain, I'm listening to you, Jackson encouraged her.

 

\- I ... it's complicated ... At first I was a little scared of him, but finally, I think I was just scared of myself. It really helped me a lot, you know it, and you too, I'm not saying you did not help ... I would not have come out without your support. But he is always there. And we get on well, really well, and I quickly realized that there was something ... special? He's not like the others, Jackson, do you understand? It is to wonder how I made to live 20 years without him, it's as if we had always known each other, and at the same time I know little about him, about his life ... And, and the nights where ... Where I have nightmares, when I wake up, he's always there, that's...

 

\- It's a little perverse ....

 

\- JACKSON.

 

\- Excuse me, too easy.

 

\- Continued like that and I will not tell you anything anymore. And, last night, we ... Her voice faltered and she felt the fire rise to her cheeks as Marcus's face was close to hers. We ... we slept together and-

 

\- SORRY ?! Jackson choked.

 

\- But it's not that ... what you think, we just slept no more, dirty mind!

 

Jackson burst out laughing at Abby's dismayed look. When he calmed down, he simply replied:

 

\- It was time.

 

\- What?

 

\- Finally, if Nathan and I was blatant, you and Marcus is the pinnacle of evidence ... Captain Evident.

 

\- Shut up ! Anyway ... I'm not finished. I don’t know where I am. Yesterday ... tonight it was really different, there was something else. I think we are more than I thought.

 

-You love him, do not you? And you just realized it?

 

\- No, I - yes I ... I love him. And I realize that he too, I think, and I had not thought about it, I did not think it could be reciprocal. What are you doing now?

 

\- How are you, what are you doing now? You will see him, you kiss him, you declare him your flame, you end together, grow old together and die together. You will even have gravestones that will be matched. Wow.

 

\- Can not you be serious five minutes? You make me regret to talk to you about it ...

 

\- No, no, Abby! ... More seriously, it's a little incredible that you realize now. Finally. For what we know, it's reciprocal, so ... Let the fairy tale do its job hum? If it's serious and you're destined for each other ... It'll come alone. Like me and Nathan.

 

\- It's easy to say, you and Nathan .... It was already written in the history of humanity. Marcus ... He's more impenetrable. And when I think about it, what do I know about him? I do not even know what happened to him. I do not know anything about his family. I do not know anything about his life.

 

\- Aaahh Abby ... When we fall in love with someone, it's not at all because of what they did. We do not like because of past actions, we do not like because of family or monetary situation or whatever. You should know, at your age. If someone makes you feel good, valued and cherished. If someone makes you want to do the worst bullshit for him, if you do not consider your life without him ... If you enjoy all his little fads, if you forget any of the simple moments spent with him. .. That's it, love, Abby. Do not ask yourself too many questions. The rest will follow.

 

A minute's silence punctuated Jackson's words. The more Abby thought about it, the less certain she had. But Jackson still won some points.

 

"Now," said Jackson, "stop making me say too serious and philosophical things, my head hurts. Go, we come back.

 

\- You must be right ... But I still do not know what to do.

 

\- That too will come, Abby. Allow yourself time, ok? Think about it but do not think about it too much.

 

\- ... What's this advice?

 

 

The automatic doors swallowed their laughter.

 

 


	22. XXII

 

_"Love, divine sun, can gild with pure fire."_   
_-Victor Hugo_

 

~~~~~

 

Abby left the rehabilitation center three days before Marcus. They still had not talked about the night they had spent together, they had not clarified anything. This did not prevent them from continuing to multiply physical contact and earn fervently the titles of "Captains Obvious" (courtesy of Jackson).

 

Marcus had finally distinguished the hair color of Abby: a beautiful brown with some lighter locks

 

Returning home, in her business, in her apartment, left her a strange sensation. She was at home, and yet felt like a stranger. Abby spent two days with that feeling of unease in her belly before realizing that what she needed was to be with Marcus Kane. Calling himself four times a day was not enough, hearing his voice through the phone was not enough.

 

Everything was going fast, everywhere, all the time. People were walking fast and jostling Abby in the street, the traffic lights were changing color with a blink of an eye, and the cars were still scared of her.

 

She would need even more time to readjust to the rhythm of life.

 

The day Marcus was out, Abby returned to the center, determined to clear things up once and for all. Marcus was finally going out of this hell and Abby would never let him go again.

 

It had been just two days since she was out and she felt like it was years. She felt an irresistible joy rise in her when she arrived at Marcus' room and she saw him sitting upright on his bed, his belongings picked up in a backpack. Marcus turned his head to Abby when she greeted him happily. Marcus had his eyes closed.

 

"Abby, come here, quickly" he said excitedly that Abby did not know him.

 

Marcus stretched his palms open and Abby naturally slid her hands into his. Marcus pulled her close.

 

\- I see. I see 95%. S-So stay close, I want to see you. I'll finally see your face, Abby," he whispered. You're ready ?

 

Abby felt her heart go on the run. How? Since when ?

 

Marcus opened his eyes and planted them directly into Abby's.

 

Time stopped. Nothing existed, just the two of them, face to face.

 

Marcus distinguished each detail with new precision. Abby's jaw, her straight nose, her hair, her big, sincere eyes, her drooping lips parted in a silent waiting. Abby was smaller than Marcus. Her shoulders well drawn, her graceful neck, everything was perfect, as Marcus had imagined.

 

They were both under the influence of the other, as if it was the first time they saw each other - this was indeed the case for Marcus.

 

But it was the first time they saw each other like that, that they really saw each other.

 

They ended up separating, the moment having to end one day. Marcus grabbed his bag without a word and put it on one shoulder, without letting go of Abby, hypnotized.

 

They left the center, and arrived outside, Abby finally opened the mouth, no longer holding.

 

\- ... So ?

 

Marcus had his head turned for several minutes. He did not answer for a few unbearable moments, then turned to Abby stopping.

 

 

He was crying.

 

A shaky smile stretched his lips.

 

\- You are beautiful.

 

His words fell like stones in Abby's stomach, trying in vain to catch her breath. She opened her mouth and closed it several times, like a fish out of the water.

 

Then she knew. The effect was worse than a nuclear bomb. She knew, she saw him now and wanted him. She took off and jumped into the arms of Marcus, who hugged him.

 

No other word was exchanged. They stayed for minutes, hours, whatever.

 

Huge flakes fell from the sky, silently surrounding them with a magical aura.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
_They were together. And happy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finish. The last chapter. Thank you very much to all readers and future readers.
> 
> and I just wanted to tell you:  
> Everyone will have to have someone like Abby on their side, but for a lot of people this is not the case yet. And I wanted to show that with time it is possible to find it and that life is gradually getting better ...  
> It's a bit like a life lesson that I give you. There will always be a reason to get up, to move on. Nobody is alone. There will always be someone to see beauty in you. And that wounds can heal.
> 
>  
> 
> thank you again and see you soon for new fanfictions;)


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